Time is Tithe!

It's the age-old question when talking about how "giving is receiving:"  How can one have more if one initially has less?  

As a pastor I often delve into this mystery when talking about supporting Horizons financially, or learning to tithe 10% of what God gives us back to his work in the world.  It's a difficult concept to explain or grasp.  Often it ends up sounding more like a magic spell, fairy tale, or pyramid scheme--we'll be more blessed, better off, and have more resources when we live into the practice...

To open up the concept a little more at Horizons and acknowledge generous gifts other than money, we've also included time and talents.  Giving of those make a huge difference as well and reap a similar return.

But the best part of all these lessons is when they become real in our lives.  Sarah and I have seen fairly well how it works with a financial tithe, but just last Saturday (04/25), we came fuller circle on the mystery of time.

Sarah is now in the final days before her board exam for state licensing to practice physical therapy.  The test requires a rigorous routine of study and preparation months in advance.  In addition to Sarah putting several hours a day into studying, she has just finished her final clinical, which often kept her busy at least 10 hours of the day.  To say the least, she's poured a great deal of her time into just these two things.

Now that the test is so close and the clinical is finished, we're officially in what we call "locked-in" mode.  We've cancelled evening plans and opportunities, set other activities aside, and have made this our one focus.  It's the final stretch.

So, given this, I was amazed and confused Saturday morning when I woke up fairly early to head over to the church.  Our Property Team has been working against the weather to host a landscaping day. With no luck because of the rain so far, that morning we were determined to make it happen.  I wanted to help make it so.  What surprised me was when Sarah announced joyfully she'd come over with me and wanted to help.

What??  That's not part of the Locked-In protocol.  Quite frankly, it's against the rules!

Sarah insisted.  "I need to do this." she said.  So we went.  We spread mulch, trimmed trees, and even helped plant seeds in the mission garden.  While we were planning to stay until noon that day we finally, at 3 in the afternoon, with cakes of mud sucking onto our shoes, headed home--finally back to the Locked-In mode we had established.

While I may have been feeling a little anxious for Sarah's schedule and day, on the way home she reminded me of the truth I tirelessly try to help others understand.  Sometimes the only way to create good space for the things you need to do is to create space for the things we can do for others.  Sarah ended up getting a solid 4 hours in on Saturday, and we went to sleep at a healthy hour.  She assured me it wouldn't have gone so well had she just stayed and studied.  I believe her.  It's true that
we often have more when we have less.  Sarah made a solid investment in her time and ended up blessed for it. Time is tithe!


More to come!

Jason <><

Who You Talkin To?

Who You Talkin' To?

The technology of e-mail and personal Internet service was just coming around when I was in high school.  Slowly homes were adding services and one by one my friends opened e-mail accounts.  We were a little slow on the draw at our house.  Instead of the Internet, my dad decided to go with an e-mail service called "Juno."  Juno allowed us to have an e-mail interface on our computer that stored all our information locally.  When it was time to send or receive messages, the service would dial a number to Cheyenne, WY and exchange packages, staying connected about five minutes or less.  Essentially, we were never really connected to the Internet.  Things were sent to a server that then sent them to us.

How often are our prayer, scripture reading, and meditation practices similar to this strange e-mail communication method?  We get into the habit of thinking about God, praying about people, or reading words that are are about God, but we often forget God is not in some far-away location like Cheyenne, WY, looming only in the background history of words written a long time ago, or hovering weightlessly in heavens tucked away in an outer universe.  God is right there, right here.  There's no indirect dispatch, no mail drop, dial-up, or "sending up."  God built this "prayer and discipline Internet" to be more of an Internalnet and all-about-us-net.

The other morning while I was praying and reading, I realized I had fallen into the Juno-style prayer and scripture reading rut, packing prayers and thoughts about God's word into a flat parcel-post box to send God's way later.  So I paused, opened my eyes, looked out, looked up, took a deep breath, and refocused my attention to God's presence right there--in REAL TIME.  It was awesome.  I was connected.  My morning, my prayers, God's word all took on a new life.

While it may seem like a subtle shift, consider and try it.  Let God truly be right there--with you, watching you, filling you, responding to you.


More to come!


Jason <><

I Loved Too Much!

I Loved Too Much!

Saturday (4/11) was Sarah's birthday.  This is a big year in her life:  school is nearly finished, her first career is already in line, and she's currently working around the clock, either at her last clinical or at the table preparing for her board examination to practice physical therapy legally in Nebraska.

Knowing the mountain of stress Sarah has on her shoulders right now, I planned ahead and intended to make this her best birthday yet.  I had been scheming for quite a while, and as soon as Sarah left to study Friday morning, I started on my plans:  prepare all the dishes for the big grill-out, make a cake, clean the patio, pick up the birthday bicycle, etc.

This is how I love Sarah and show it:  acts of service.  Anyone familiar with the 5 Love Languages will know what I'm talking about.  Sarah's love language, however, is NOT acts of service.  It's quite the opposite.

But as it turned out, Friday ended up being more a reminder of the "art" of love than the practice of it.  That afternoon was rolling around, the cake was done, I was struggling with making the frosting (because I have no idea how to soften butter without melting it), and I was currently lifting, awkwardly, Sarah's new used bike into the garage attic so she wouldn't see it.  That's when the phone rang.  It was Sarah.  With joy and elation in her voice, she announced she was coming home early!

My response should have matched her joy and elation.  It didn't.  My words flat-lined as I expressed how "happy" I was for her.  I threw in a couple grunts to hint I was on a ladder and in the middle of something important.  I essentially explained to Sarah her early arrival would significantly disrupt my plans for the day and that I wasn't as happy as I said I was.

This is not what a guy loving his wife should say to convey his love for her; and it's certainly not what any stressed-out wife about to celebrate her birthday wants to hear in response to her good news and offer to spend some unanticipated time together.

Ultimately, while I was busy breaking my back to lavish extravagant signs of love onto my wife for her birthday, I totally rejected my greatest opportunity to share love with her the way it meant the most to her.  Instead I stubbornly insisted her timing was getting in the way of my gift.

Love is trickier than we imagine sometimes.  It's a good practice for Sarah to learn to recognize my languages of love.  But it's also crucial we learn to speak not only our own languages, but the language of others.  If we don't, we run the risk of "exhibition love"--practiced merely out of pride and self-gratification rather than for the purpose of building others up.

Toward the end of the Saturday, when the party and the gifts subsided, Sarah and I had a chance to reflect.  I was sorry I didn't stop, share real joy, and spend more time with Sarah the day before.  Sarah apologized for not seeing more clearly my efforts to love her.  It was perhaps the best moment in the whole birthday extravaganza--the time we spent reflecting, laughing, and learning.


Here's to love--and how tricky it can be sometimes!


More to come!



Jason <><

The Water's Fine Enough!

We celebrated the resurrection this last Sunday in a beautiful and powerful way (4/05), and now it's the season of Easter until mid-May.

I love Easter Sunday, but often feel slightly anxious about the day.  As a religious leader, I get to hold out my hand, take a brave step, and invite others to come with me: "the water's fine, c'mon!"   A great deal of my leadership and invitation require I have a certain level of confidence, experience, and assurance.  Easter is certainly one of these moments when others are counting on a pretty high level of these three.

But the challenge is the faith and Lord many of us identify with are often just as mysterious, complex, and obscure as they are clear, comprehensible, and timely.  While there are countless records of instant revelations and life-change moments, our relationships and understanding of Christ's depth often take a lifetime of work and growth.  Additionally, this knowledge of the heart rarely lends itself to our timeline or personal conventions of control.

When I teach on Sundays, I often assure others I'm including myself in my observations and prescriptions.  It's also important others know anything I'm teaching I'm also working on personally.  I'm not perfect, nor am I completely there yet.

But that's what I love about this life, this faith pursuit, and this seeking after a Lord and Savior we cannot see with our eyes as we can see our friends and family.  It's less about what I know, am completely assured about, and have most of the answers about, and much more about what I desire, hope for, and am willing to devote myself to.  It's much less about hearing from someone else first the water is fine and much more about deciding the water will be fine enough to dive right into, even IF it's freezing, burning, shallow, deep, full of undetected obstacles, or hiding swift undercurrents.

Jesus doesn't tell us just to sit at home and wait for him to come greet us, pack all our clothes, book all our flights, print all our maps, and pay for all our meals.  Instead, Jesus is saying most of the time, "Hey, I want you to have this, but just as much, I want you to want this.  You take the first step!"

So when it comes to Easter, the resurrection, and Jesus' new life--I'm not completely there yet.  I have a lot to learn, experience, and let soak into my core still.  But, I want what we've been told about and see glimpses of all around us.  I'm desiring to get way out there beyond the buoys in my little blow-up floaty tube.  I'm anxious to experience the fullness of who Jesus is all about me, even in my deepest depths.

And so that's how I'll live my life.  I'm not waiting for Jesus to come get me.  I'm going to meet him somewhere in the middle of getting there!



Happy Easter!  More to come!

Jason <><